


it calls me on and on across the universe

by badritual



Series: Exchange Fic [7]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Community: shipoween, Don't copy to another site, Gen, M/M, Shipoween 2019, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-03 07:58:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21176045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badritual/pseuds/badritual
Summary: The manipulation of time is not a skill so easily won.





	it calls me on and on across the universe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yujacheong](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yujacheong/gifts).

> Written for yujacheong for shipoween.
> 
> Thanks to B for the beta!
> 
> Title from the Beatles song.

Luke feels _it_—the exact moment when Han is cut down by his son—like an actual physical wound on his soul. His soul feels as if it’s been rent in two and he’s staggered by it, collapsing to his knees at the side of his pallet.

He presses a trembling hand against his chest. When he brings it away, he very nearly expects it to be dripping with blood and is almost surprised to find his palm unstained.

Luke closes his eyes, searches through the Force like sifting through many millions of shimmering gold tendrils for a single tiny pearl.

There is an empty void where Han’s presence once radiated in the embrace of the Force.

Han had once joked that he was so Force _un_-sensitive that he was a void where the Force went to die. Now the spaces Han’s presence once filled are empty. 

*** 

Luke sits, cross-legged, on the craggy cliffside, overlooking a tumultuous gray sea. Sometimes, he comes out here to observe the rolling waves and meditate. Usually, the soft lapping of the water brings with it the peace of mind necessary for Luke to calm his mind and silence his thoughts.

Not tonight. No, tonight Luke keeps worrying over Han’s gaping absence. He keeps running his tender mind over sharp, jagged edges where Han was so violently ripped out of the fabric of the Force.

Was he not a master Jedi? Is there truly nothing Luke can do?

He thinks about reaching out to Leia, for a moment. But he knows she wouldn’t approve of what’s stirring in his soul.

He knows his sister wouldn’t approve of what his soul is urging him to do.

***

The manipulation of time is not a skill so easily won. Palpatine had never dreamed of it. Vader had fallen short. Even the great Yoda was unable to master it.

Luke thinks he’s finally gotten a handle on it. Enough that he can finally attempt it, at least.

He sits cross-legged in his small, stone hut, slivers of moonlight peeking through cracks in the thatched roof. Outside, he can hear the fluttering and shrieking of the porgs. He thinks the island’s caretakers have all gone to sleep. 

All the better, Luke supposes. He doesn’t know how this is going to go. He wouldn’t want to worry them.

Luke closes his eyes and starts meditating, reaching deep within himself. He wraps invisible fingers around the frayed thread in the fabric of the Force and follows it like a lifeline.

It leads him to the moment when Han was ripped from the universe. When his aura was extinguished in a single soul-rending moment. 

Luke grasps at the thread and starts tugging on it, like a child pulls at a loose thread on a gown or seat cushion. The Force unspools around him, unraveling and dropping at his feet.

Something chills him to his core and yet he keeps going. Pulling, ripping, unraveling.

He _must_ get this right. He must undo what has already been done.

Luke must save Han.

***

When he opens his eyes, he finds himself standing on an elevated platform alongside two younglings. Their sheer, raw power is almost overwhelming, weaving around them like a cocoon. Luke can sense the distress in their souls, too.

He turns, glimpsing dark shapes on the platform below them. 

Luke watches his nephew extend his hand. 

Everything around him, even the two children who haven’t yet picked up on his presence, drops away. Leaving only Ben and Han and that lightsaber between them.

Luke can feel the intent behind Ben’s gesture. The hatred, anger, love, indecision boiling and bubbling within him.

“Ben, _no_.” Luke leaps from the platform, his hand resting on his hilt where his own little-used ’saber rests.

Ben lifts his eyes, his gloved hand tightening on the handle. “_You_,” Ben hisses, contemptuously.

Luke steps in front of Han, placing himself in line with Ben’s ’saber blade. “Don’t do this, Ben.”

He feels Han’s confusion at his back. Fear, confusion, and a dash of hope. Luke narrows his eyes, stares Ben down, almost daring him to ignite his ’saber and cut both he and Han down.

Ben clenches his jaw. “Don’t make me kill you both.”

Luke reaches down and closes his hand around Han’s arm, squeezing tightly. “It doesn’t have to be this way.”

He sees the muscles in Ben’s cheek twitch, and he knows his nephew isn’t going to stand down. His mind is clouded, his energy pulsing red and angry. Any doubt, any indecision that had stayed his hand before is slowly funneling out of him.

“We have to go,” Luke murmurs.

Han tries to twist his arm free. “I told Leia I would bring him back.”

“You won’t be able to do that if he kills you,” Luke says. “Come with me, Han.”

Luke closes his eyes, his hand still clamped around Han’s arm, and draws deep within himself, calling on the Force. The ancient magic that flows through Luke wraps around both he and Han in its protective embrace.

Light flickers across Ben’s face, catching specks of gold in his eyes.

Luke imagines the Force closing like a fist around them.

They’re ripped free and then they’re falling together.

***

They land with a shuddering jolt on soft grass. Luke rolls onto his back and stares up at the slate-gray sky, as he silently wills his heart to stop trying to leap out of his chest.

Han doesn’t say anything and for a moment, Luke worries that in his effort to save Han’s life he’s killed him.

Finally, Han grumbles. “Literally anyone else would’ve sent a holomessage,” he barks, but Luke can tell he’s not exactly displeased.

Luke sits up slowly, brushing bits of grass off his robe. “Had to make an entrance,” he says.

“Skywalkers,” Han mutters, shoving to his feet. He jerks his thumb over his shoulder, toward the rolling sea. “What was that, back there?” 

“I…I think I tore a hole in the fabric of time,” Luke says, uncertainly.

“The universe gonna unravel now?” Han asks, narrowing his eyes.

“I don’t know,” Luke admits, clapping dirt off the palms of his hands. He pauses. “You’re taking this awfully well. Much better than I’d been expecting.”

“I’d rather be punching holes in the fabric of time than on the wrong end of a ’saber blade,” Han says. “Don’t know what I’m gonna tell Leia about the kid. Promised I’d bring him back to her.”

“We’ll think of something,” Luke promises, standing up and pushing the hood of his robe away from his face. A whipping wind slaps at his cheeks and stings his eyes. “I can sense a disturbance in the Force.”

Han sighs a long-suffering sigh. “I guess you’re gonna say you need my help,” he says, gruffly.

“If you’re offering…” Luke offers Han a smile.

Han glares at him for a few seconds before the scowl twitches into a fond smile. “I guess I am.”

Luke reaches out, squeezing Han’s hand. “I missed you.”

“Don’t go getting sentimental on me,” Han says, but he squeezes back.

Luke laces his fingers with Han’s and leads him down the side of the cliff. His ship lifts out of the water before them, rising like a sun in the gray-blue sky. And with it, with Han beside him, Luke’s hope rises too. 


End file.
